


Whispers in the Dark

by Anonymous



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 19:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16248083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: I'll come back to haunt you,Memories will taunt you





	Whispers in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saintlysinner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintlysinner/gifts).



The Varia rest uneasily with Xanxus trapped beneath the Iron Fort. At first, it makes sense. Xanxus is a Sky, and he kept the Varia under the weight of his flame. Xanxus' flame had not been a particularly kind one, but it had been possessive and familiar. There is a certain sort of pride in being owned by a flame like that, and that it's missing? It feels _wrong_.

But as the months tick by, Squalo begins to notice other things. Little things that shouldn't bother him, but _do_. A curtain pulled back from a window seat that Xanxus had liked to sit in. Corked bottles of expensive alcohol missing half their liquid. Spidery cracks in walls, like something heavy had been thrown hard enough to leave an impression.

All of them can be explained away individually, but put together and they make Squalo's skin itch. He's not a superstitious man, but there's coincidence... and this.

Squalo doesn't know how he should feel about it. It almost seems like Xanxus has found his way home, intangible and incorporeal. But Squalo should _know_ if Xanxus is no longer among the living. Their flame bond aches as it was, stretched thin and ice cold, but it isn't _broken_ and therefore Xanxus can't be dead.

He's torn between two extremes, and on bad days, he doesn't care whether Xanxus is dead or alive as long as he comes back. On better days, he looks in the mirror and is disgusted with how far he's fallen. Death is _not_ acceptable, not for such a stupid reason. (The horror of Xanxus' imprisonment means that currently he is neither alive nor dead, but he has to believe it will not be like that forever.) And Xanxus will be furious if the Varia stagnates in his absence.

That, more than anything, sets his course. Squalo grits his teeth and turns back to work with a vengeance. He will not fall prey to the sort of self-delusion that his Sky is haunting Varia HQ.

Until he does.

He has worked himself past the point of exhaustion, dealing with an impossible client and a particularly messy murder. He's wound tight to the point where he knows he _should_ sleep, but the chances of doing so are slim. Squalo still plans to lie in his bed, but he's not expecting much more than that.

He strips himself out of his uniform and feels his skin pebble with goose bumps. There is a chill in the air that leaves the short hairs at Squalo's neck on end. He toggles the thermostat to his room a few degrees higher, but it doesn't help.

A shiver runs down his spine. His room is one of the most secure in the building, but Squalo could swear there was someone watching him. A _familiar_ someone, at that.

The title drops from his mouth without his permission. "Boss?"

The lamp hanging from the ceiling flickers and dies, leaving the room limned in pale moonlight. The air grows violently colder, dropping with an almost physical weight. Squalo tastes blood on the back of his tongue.

"Shark," a low, gravelly voice comes from behind him.

Squalo slowly turns on his heel, unsure of what he'll find.

In the gloom, blood red eyes glow like a cat's, so familiar that it aches.

Squalo falls.


End file.
